Novels2Search

9. Final preparations

Earon was never going to have enough time to train everything he needed to, but there were certain areas he needed to gain more experience in than others.

The most obvious of these was his lack of combat tactics and skills. Obviously, lack of spells, not even understanding how he was meant to cast them, and overall lacking ability when it came to the arcane, was a major detriment, but that didn't seem likely to change.

There were no doubt parties that would be interested in Earon, like the mages and priests, but handing himself over to be prodded around with hardly seemed worth it, even if they did help him get stronger. Any other alternative would likely cost coin, coin which they didn't have.

There had been a few polearm wielders in town, and Earon had stayed out to watch them train over the next week. Making sure to keep his cowl low the entire time, wary of the apprentices.

He had picked up a few ideas on how to use his spear better and brought them out whenever training with the others.

Training had shifted over the last week, and instead of being entirely focused on helping Earon get better, it evolved into group tactics.

Dummies were set over a sandy, barren field. The group split up and took turns engaging the pretend enemy. Dordan and Fane would charge in, taking their enemy's attention, whilst Iliana would be hurling arrows from afar. Earon’s job was to lay low, preferably completely avoiding detection. And if or when a caster presented themselves, he would charge out with the intent of taking them down.

It was a little belittling to be told to essentially hide and just try to keep yourself alive until needed, but Earon accepted the duty, nonetheless.

The strategy was simple enough, and after a few days of drilling, Earon even managed to unlock the stealth ability – a rather impressive feat, since they were only practicing with dummies.

Having a combat class was new to Earon, and he hadn't really known exactly what would be unlockable and what wouldn't. But it seemed to follow a different, but logically similar pattern as his farmer class had. Any skill that would be beneficial to an adventurer or combatant, seemed to be a skill he could unlock. On the other hand, any skill that could be useful to a farmer had previously been unlockable for him; such as crafting and repair skills. The thing that really separated classes was their abilities. No farmer would ever be able to craft like a crafter, especially not a specialized one. And in the same way, Earon would never be able to compare with an actual spearman.

Fighting in real, life-threatening combat, or crafting with rare and valuable ingredients always increased skills a lot faster. Whilst training with dummies, wooden swords, and the like worked, gains generally came a lot slower. For example, Rindle the captain of Ryewood’s little militia, and its best fighter, was only level 16 overall, with a level of 20 in swords, at the polished age of thirty-eight. But that was indicative of people who never challenged themselves to gain their skills. And had he been out adventuring; it would no doubt be far higher than that.

Amongst the group, only Fane had broken through level 20, currently at 22, and 27 in daggers. This was another issue people faced as they gained more levels, hitting their caps early. Fane would soon be forced to increase less important skills if he wished to continue leveling, which could be hard sometimes.

Whilst it correlated with his lower skill and level, it was a little surprising to learn that Dordan, despite his size, was only a year older than Earon. Whilst Iliana was twenty-five and Fane was thirty – not that he looked a day over twenty – perhaps thanks to his cowl permanently held low, resulted in his pale skin rarely seeing an ounce of sunlight, and as such, remaining youthly.

Overall, they held respectable levels and were above the average guardsmen who never saw battle, but not by a whole lot. And Earon started to get a better understanding as to why they had struggled to pick up a caster.

Iliana, being a ranger, had a bunch of stealth-like abilities. Including abilities that made use of smoke, flash, and fire arrows, when she could afford them, that was – which hadn’t been for a while.

Fane, on the other hand, wasn’t a rogue or stealth class at all, surprisingly. Rather, he was a speed-based warrior. His abilities mirrored this, providing an advanced dodging ability and an attack speed multiplier.

Dordan had been the least surprising, and his berserker abilities essentially allowed him to ignore damage and fight tirelessly whilst it lasted – though this could have severe side effects if he ended his rage in a bad state; which had almost cost him his life multiple times already.

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As things currently went, it was Fane who led the pack, dodging and weaving as he drew enemies towards himself. Iliana provided support from afar, and Dordan engaged from a flank, usually trying to restrain himself from berserking until necessary, working as a kind of trump card. The strategy that seemed to make the most sense, was to hold Dordan back, wait for casters to reveal themselves, and have Dordan look for a weak point and then have him go on a rampage. Hopefully, that would then open an opportunity for Earon to travel through his path of destruction and attack the enemy caster.

Whether or not this would work in the heat of battle when Dordan was under threat of said caster, was yet to be seen, but overall, there was a generally positive mood toward the plan.

“How’s everyone feeling, ready for the hunt?” Fane asked as all four of them panted after a particularly strenuous session.

“Hope so,” Earon murmured.

“You’ll be alright,” Iliana said, patting Earon on the shoulder. “Just follow our lead. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

“Alright then. Well, with only a week left, you know what that means?” Fane grinned.

Earon groaned as the putrid sewer stench filled his nostrils and dozens of giant rats glared down at him.

Why did it always have to be the damned sewers?

Charing forward, Earon put into practice everything he had learned both from the training exercises and from watching the experienced spearmen in their daily practice routines.

He stabbed forward with short movements making sure not to overextend himself and put himself out of position as he goaded his rodent enemies into range. He would slip back, counting with stabs as they exposed themselves in a surprisingly controlled and well-thought-out fashion for the beginner pole fighter.

The battle was one of the longest and most difficult Earon had been involved in and only needed a little help from Dordan who had remained nearby.

He was still far from being a veteran, but it was quite impressive, nonetheless.

"Not bad, little man," Dordan said with a nod as the last rat twitched with death throws.

"Getting pretty good, aren't I?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Dordan smiled. "You know, you kind of remind me of someone."

"Oh?" Earon's brow raised.

"My little brother. He was a good kid, a bit small for a clainsman, but he had heart. Never backed down from a challenge." Dordan looked away and patted Earon's back.

"Dordan?"

Silence returned as the two made their way out of the sewers. When sunlight cast against their faces, Earon noticed a watery glimmer across Dordan's eyes.

"Dordan?"

"He passed before his time. Life in the Clain is hard."

Earon's chest knotted and he placed a hand against the big man's back.

"That was a long time ago..." Dordan wiped his eyes. "Silly to reminisce with such thoughts. Strength comes from overcoming, not dwelling."

"We don't always have to be strong, Dordan." Earon said with a reassuring pat on the back.

Smiling Dordan nodded. "I suppose you're right. You're kind of smart, aren't you?"

Earon shrugged awkwardly. "Well, I dunno about that."

Chuckling, Dordan dipped a hand into his furs and pulled free a slim pouch. "I was saving this, but now seems like as good a time as any. Fancy an ale?"

Earon nodded.

The two shared stories of their upbringing over ale, and Earon his mother, and her passing.

"I won't lie, the road can be lonely as an adventurer. You will likely regret your decision to leave home, sooner or later. We all do."

"Yeah, probably," Earon agreed, staring down at his drink.

"But we watch each other's backs. You know, it's hard to find a good group. We might not be the strongest group, but you can trust them. Most out here are just in search of coin, and his your throat comes in-between that..."

"Yeah, I get it."

“You know, Earon, things will be different out there."

"Yeah, it'll be dangerous."

"Yes, of course. But not just because of monsters. Beyond the gate things are different. Whilst attacking one another might technically be against the law, there is no authority within the Clain. If something happens out there, whether it's in the Clain barren or deep within one of the Scars, then it's treated like a tragedy, no different from a flood or fire. No one will investigate your death, if there are rumors another adventurer killed you, then they will remain just that, rumors. And there are plenty of cutthroats around that are happy to take advantage of these kinds of circumstances.”

"So, we have to be wary of other groups?"

"Most will be in a similar position, trying to stay clear of others. But there will no doubt be dangerous people during the hunt. Groups with higher levels, better combat skills, and real casters that can obliterate scores of adventurers with single spells. Look, I'm not trying to scare you, the Clain is huge, and if we are smart, we can avoid the chaos. But you need to understand the threats that will be against us."

Earon sighed. "Well, thank you. But I didn't join up just to get my hands on easy treasures. I want this, I think. I want a challenge."

Dordan's brow raised as he turned his head to study Earon,

"I thought farming was all I wanted..." Earon's finger rimmed his ale. "But joining you and the others, it changed. Like I was living a dream or something? Just drifting, not experiencing life. Scared to take risks, overthinking, and... I don't know."

Dordan's hand landed on Earon's shoulder. "I understand."

Training continued more or less the same for the rest of the week, and Earon managed to push himself enough to gain a point in both resistance and block.